


Broken Bones and Braided Buns

by sithsanidala



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Hair Braiding, Mild Language, Minor Violence, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:02:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24518896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sithsanidala/pseuds/sithsanidala
Summary: Padmé Amidala breaks her hand on a mission and her “bodyguard” and husband, Anankin Skywalker, has to help her get ready.
Relationships: Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 5
Kudos: 73





	Broken Bones and Braided Buns

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Disney and Lucasfilms.

Anakin threw open the double doors of the building he and Padmé were staying in. “Where is she? Is she okay? What happened to her?”

Captain Rex put up his hand to steady him. “General Skywalker, slow down-“

“-I’ll slow down when you tell me where my wi- where Senator Amidala is!” Anakin hastily corrected himself and glanced around the hallway, but it was just him and Rex.

“If you don’t calm down, everyone on Mandalore will know you two are married,” Rex muttered. “Not that you two are very subtle, anyways.”

“I know, Rex, I just...” Anakin sighed and rubbed his temples. “I’m supposed to protect her on this mission, and I stepped away for five seconds and she got shot. It’s my fault if anything happens to her.”

“This isn’t anybody’s fault except the shooter. You did good today, Skywalker.”

“Right back at you, Rex. And I’ll have you know that Padmé and I are doing a very good job of keeping our relationship a secret.”

“Just last month you arrived late to a mission briefing. Because that’s normal for you, nobody thought anything was strange, but your robes were on inside out and Padmé left a lipstick mark on your neck.”

”And you didn’t fucking tell me? What if the other masters had seen?”

Rex chortled and pressed a button to open the door to Senator Amidala’s quarters, and Anakin almost knocked his helmet out of his arms as he rushed inside.

A medic was packing up his kit by the bed where Padmé lay. He saluted his commanding officer before leaving the room, and Rex made sure to shut the door.

“I was beginning to wonder where you were,” Padmé said, her smile widening so her teeth showed. (Anakin’s favorite smile, even if she was self-conscious about it).

Anakin grabbed her face and kissed her long enough for Rex to feel awkward. When he was satisfied, Anakin knelt next to her bed. “Padmé, I am so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. You stopped the assassin before he could shoot more than a few people, he’s in custody, and nobody died. All thanks to you.”

“But you were shot, angel.”

Padmé held up her right hand. It was wrapped in a white ACE bandage. “Not really. When I pushed Duchess Satine out of the way, the laser blast grazed my hand. Almost no damage, except for a minor burn across my knuckles.”

“Then why are the bandages so thick?”

“In all the chaos, my hand was stepped on by a few people trying to leave the room. The medic says my hand and a few fingers are broken or fractured. I won’t be able to use this hand for at least two weeks.”

“Two weeks? How are you going to type or write or shoot a blaster or-“

“-Ani,” Padmé interrupted. She grabbed one of Anakin’s hands with both of hers. “I’ll be fine. I will still be able to do everything work related with my left hand.”

“And we all know Senator Amidala can shoot pretty damn well with either hand,” Rex said with a small smile.

Anakin smirked, remembering the arena battle on Geonosis.

“Just let me know if there’s anything, even if it’s small, that I can help you with.”

“Well, there is one thing I may need help with this week.”

“Name it.”

“Are you sure? Because I can ask Dormé to fly out here so that I don’t bother you with something this trivial.”

“You don’t need to bring Dormé here. I can easily do her job.”

***

“Wow,” Padmé said, pleasantly surprised. “You’re surprisingly good at doing braids.”

“I am a man of many talents, my love. That and I had plenty of practice on Tattooine and on my own hair when I was a Padawan.” Anakin frowned slightly and bit his lower lip in concentration. “Okay, now that they’re done...” and he trailed off as his hands started moving the hair around her head.

“Anakin, you’re doing it wrong,” Padmé criticized her husband.

“What do you mean?” Anakin held up the three small Dutch braids he had just finished, one on each side of the top of Padmé’s head and one dead center. “I braided them and now I’m combining them with the rest of your hair to make a ponytail like you said.”

“You’re supposed to tie the rest of my hair into a ponytail, including the left and right braids, and then wrap the middle one around the hair elastic to hide it and pin it in place.”

Anakin did as he was told, grumbling the entire time about how she never scolded Dormé or Sabé when they did her hair.

“That’s because they actually know how to properly do hair, my love,” Padmé said. “Now, split my ponytail in two, but leave the small braid hanging, and rope braid each section, then tie them into a bun on each side of my head. Don’t forget to pin them in place before you hide the pins and hair elastic with the small braids.”

“Alright. What’s a rope braid?”

Padmé sighed. While she walked Anakin through the style step by step, she rummaged around in her drawers for her gold hair pins and favorite long lasting hair spray. She passed him pins and told him the exact spot to place them, then sprayed her head generously before standing, kissing Anakin’s cheek to thank him.

“Not bad,” he said, “for a cripple who has never done anybody’s hair before.” Anakin stepped back to admire his work. He couldn’t believe his hands had done that to Padmé’s hair without hurting her or severely fucking up her hair.

“Now for the headpiece and jewelry,” Padmé said dreamily. “My favorite part.”

She had already laid out all the pieces on her vanity. Each gold and green piece sparkled in the sun, polished as always.

Padmé held up a thick gold chain with a sizable round emerald dangling on it.

“This goes on my head. You’ll need to pin it in place-“

“- Are you sure this isn’t a necklace or something? It’s enourmous.” Anakin held it up to his face, the stone making a small ping noise as it hit his prosthetic arm.

“I think I know my own jewelry, Anakin. Now, as I was saying, first place it so that the emerald is on my forehead and just barely touches my hairline. No, not there. A little lower... perfect.” She held up two thin gold hair pins. “Now, just wrap the chain around the base of the buns, and then secure each one with a pin.”

“What was the point of hiding the elastics with braids if I was going to cover up two of them with gold chains anyways?”

“It’s for the aesthetic, Ani. And you can see the braids through the chains, by the way.”

Anakin did as he was told, though it was hard when Padmé kept turning her head from side to side to make sure he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

Next, Padmé held up a pair of deep green earrings in the shape of tear drops. As Anakin grabbed them, his jaw dropped.

“And I thought my lightsaber was heavy,” he remarked. “Are you sure you want these hanging from your ears all day, angel?”

“I have heavier ones, if you can believe it.”

“And suddenly I feel insecure about the small gold angel-shaped ones I gave you for your birthday this year.”

“You know the size doesn’t matter; it’s the thought and effort that counts.” Padmé slipped on green and gold bangles, adjusted her earrings, and turned to face her husband. He wore a devilish smirk. She knew the glint in his eyes all too well.

“Stop making everything into an innuendo!” She raised her healthy hand with the intent to jokingly smack his broad shoulders, but Anakin grabbed her hand and kissed the top of it. Padmé blushed a pretty pink that went well with the makeup Anakin had done his best to apply.

Anakin watched his wife take one last look in her large, polished silver mirror before giving a satisfied nod.

“Not bad, Anakin. Maybe I should give my handmaids a holiday. You could do this more often.”

“As much as I love spending time with you, angel, this was almost as stressful as a droid battle. As far as I’m concerned, Dormé can keep this job.”

***


End file.
